


Lightning

by JudasComplex



Series: Detective and the Delinquent [2]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Kanji is so bad at emotions, alternate perspective, or at least figuring out how to show or express them, other side of the coin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:18:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudasComplex/pseuds/JudasComplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kanji Tatsumi's never been afraid of thunderstorms, but when one strikes right after he hears that Naoto's grandfather has landed in the hospital, the storm takes on a whole new feeling. And he's not about to let Naoto weather the storm--either storm--alone.</p><p>KANJI'S POV! Yup, due to popular demand, this is the exact same story as my fic "Thunderstorm," just from Kanji's point of view! :D It doesn't really matter which one you read first, though I wrote Naoto's first so I'd read Thunderstorm first...? (really, I'd go back and forth chapter for chapter but I'M A MASOCHIST OR SOMETHING)</p><p>(Rating is purely me being safe rather than sorry; I'm planning on building this fic so it may delve into more mature stuff further on. Takes place post-game/Golden/animation.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You asked for it--so here it is! Kanji's POV from Thunderstorm. I'm going to try and update these in tandem with each other, so you'll get a Naoto chapter in TS, and then a Kanji chapter here in L.
> 
> I'm having fun with these, because you get to see all the little things that people don't mention... (*coughNarukamicough*) Hope you all enjoy!

“Kanji? I'm home!”

“In the back, Ma.” The young man's words ended up muffled from the pins tucked between his lips, as he glared at the project in front of him. He'd been spending too much time focusing on his knitting, and his drafting skills were getting rusty. He'd figured that starting with a nice, simple button-down shirt would be simple.

_It'll be easy, I thought. Don't gotta remember so many fancy tricks, I thought. Damn was I an idiot._

He heard his mother set down some papers on the table just beyond the wall that separated the shop from their living space and sigh. “Looks like a nasty storm is just about to come in. Is the laundry in?”

Kanji pulled the pins from his mouth and stuck them in the neck of the mannequin. He'd come back to this later; it was just pissing him off now. “Yeah, brought it in like an hour ago. Din't know it was s'pposed to rain today, though.”

“Mm, the wind is really picking up out there, and it's gotten quite chilly. I'm planning on making curry for dinner. Sound good?”

“Sure, sounds great.” He gave the shirt one final look. _Man, I didn't think I was this out of practice._ He'd decided that if he was ever going to completely embrace who he was and who he wanted to be accepted for, he was going to need to wear something other than skull shirts and hoodies. And why buy clothes when you can make them better? _At least, I **should** be able to make them better. Stupid frickin' shirt._ Shaking his head, he walked out and headed for the stairs up to their living space when his mother's voice stopped him.

“Kanji? I left the evening paper down on the table. Can you bring it up?”

He glanced to his left and saw the paper tucked under a bag of supplies for the shop. “Yeah, sure.” He grabbed the bag and put it next to the mannequin, picked up the paper on his way back and came up the stairs into the kitchen. “Here.”

His mother turned to look at him and smiled. “Thank you, Kanji. I appreciate your watching the store for me after school, too. Did you have any trouble?”

“Nah, it was slow.” He slid into a chair, slouching so that his head could rest at the top of the back. “Sold a couple things, closed up, worked on that shirt I been messin' with.”

She nodded, moving around the kitchen to get the ingredients for the meal. “I did see you had a project. What inspired that?”

“I'unno. Figured if I wanted t'start dressin' nicer, may as well make my own stuff. Fit better, anyway.” He sighed, pulling himself up in the chair. “How was Okina?”

“Oh, the same as usual. I found a few interesting pieces for a few orders we have, but nothing terribly exciting. Tell me about your day. How did school go?”

Kanji wasn't particularly good at this small-talk business, but he'd been trying to get better about communicating with his mother. After everything that had happened last year, it was too easy to imagine everyone he knew gone without a second chance, and after all the trouble he'd had understanding his father, Kanji didn't want to risk the same with his mother. She'd worked hard to raise Kanji on her own for close to half of his life; it was time he started acting like he appreciated it. Which he did.

So he stuck around in the kitchen while his mother cooked, telling her about school, or his knitting projects, or why he'd suddenly decided to change his wardrobe and did it have anything to do with that Narukami boy because he was such a gentleman all the time and it was probably good that he'd rubbed off on Kanji a little. (Not that he'd admit it, but it _was_ probably half Yu's fault for putting the idea in Kanji's head, and yes, maybe being around him had rubbed off on Kanji because who _wouldn't_ want to be more like Yu Narukami?)

After they ate, Kanji agreed to wash the dishes while his mother read the paper. It was the easiest way for Kanji to keep up with the news without actually watching it, since if anything interesting or remarkable in any way happened, his mother would comment on it. Most days it was just “oh, the district is finally thinking about approaching Junes about co-operative sales” or “did you hear they finally caught the kids who were harassing children around here?” Nothing that ever interested Kanji, except for the one time they'd had a mini-article on Adachi and the cases from the past year.

“Oh,” his mother's voice cut through the haze of his washing, and his eyes flickered over to her. “That's odd, I know I've heard this name before.”

“What's up?” Kanji set the dish he'd been rinsing to the side to be dried, and picked up the next.

“Hm... Kanji, is one of your friends named Shirogane?”

The cup slipped out of his hands and though he scrambled to catch it, it clattered back into the sink—luckily not broken. “I—what—um, I mean, yeah I know someone with that name. You met 'em. The detective in my class at school.” He looked back at the cup, but couldn't bring himself to try and lift it again. “Why?”

“Mm, someone with that name collapsed earlier today and had to be rushed to the hospital.”

In that instant, teleportation must have been invented. He had no memory of moving from the sink to his mother's side, but there he was, one hand gripping the back of her chair and the other pinning the paper to the table. “What!? Where?”

“Goodness, Kanji. It's just a small article.” She pointed and Kanji scanned the words.

_After a speaking engagement at a local school, renowned detective and public figure Ryouichi Shirogane collapsed suddenly and was rushed to Inaba Municipal Hospital. Details as to his condition are still unknown. Having been in what seemed to be excellent physical condition during his talk, it came as a great surprise that..._

He couldn't read anymore. That had to be Naoto's grandfather. How many Shiroganes were in the Inaba area? Not that damn many.

He rushed out of the room, bee-lining for his room and his phone, distantly hearing his mother saying something but completely missing what it was. _Where was Naoto?_ Had she been with her grandfather? Did she even know about the incident? If she hadn't been there and it happened while she was at school, they could have not reached her yet... _That don't make any sense. She has a cell phone, you moron._ Still. He grabbed his phone from his bag and brought up Naoto's number. He didn't use it often (because he panicked and chickened out every time he tried to say anything to her) but was infinitely glad now he'd gotten it during the investigation last year.

_Hey Naoto, I just saw the paper. Are you ok?_

Easy. Simple. Basic. Absolutely no way to screw that message up. He sent it and waited. The few times he had actually messaged Naoto, she'd been quick to respond—in that bizarre way she texted, all capital letters and half shortened words. Even he didn't text like that.

A minute passed. Another. After five minutes of silence, Kanji could feel his stomach drop. _Where is she?_ He swallowed, took a deep breath, and hit the call button. Maybe she hadn't heard her phone.

_Ring...ring...ring...ring...ring... “You have reached the voicemail for Naoto Shirogane. I am unavailable at the moment, but if you will please leave your name, telephone number, and a brief message detailing the reason for your call, I will return your call as soon as I can.”_

 

He hissed, hanging up without leaving a message. “Dammit.” He tried another text.

_Just tried calling, but didn't get an answer. Let me know if you're ok. Don't know if you're there or not._

There. That would be good enough. He'd tried to get a hold of her, didn't manage to do it, and now he could stop worrying. He had homework to do anyway. He could focus on that.

…

_I wonder if the others read the paper._

He grabbed his phone, trying to think of who he should try and contact. Normally he'd go for Narukami first, but with him out of Inaba it seemed less likely that he'd have heard anything...or that he could do anything. Rise had talked to Naoto a good amount, but the idol was back on tour and he didn't really want to try and talk to her anyway. _Prob'ly just call me Moronji again and hang up._ _Who else does Naoto talk to?_ They both had started talking to Naoki Konishi more, but Kanji didn't have his cell phone number and the Konishis didn't really care for him so he didn't dare call the liquor shop.

_C'mon, Tatsumi! Think!_

The next most likely person to have seen the paper, or have a paper around to see, was Yukiko. That was at least someone Kanji felt somewhat comfortable calling. They'd drifted apart since they were kids, but after the events of last year, they'd started rebuilding it. He punched in Yukiko's number and hit the call button.

_Ring...ring...ring...ring...click—_

“Hello?”

“Hey, Yukiko? Uh, it's Kanji.”

Yukiko sounded confused, but eternally polite. As usual. “Oh! Good evening, Kanji-kun. I...suppose I didn't expect to hear from you. Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I know, sorry t'call outta the blue like this. But—do you guys got a copy of the evening paper at the inn?”

There was a pause at the other end of the line, and then Yukiko's hesitant voice came back. “Kanji...if you need a copy of the paper, there are...”

He sighed. “No—no, I don't need a paper; I got one here. I'm askin' if you've read it.”

“Oh. I...no, I haven't seen the paper.” Her voice shifted, now softer and less baffled. “Is there something wrong?”

“I...yeah, I think so.” He swallowed again, staring at the wall across from him. “I think Naoto's gramps went to the hospital, an' I can't get a hold of her.”

He could hear the sharp intake of breath from Yukiko, and then movement in the background; a door opened and shut, and then papers rustling. “I...hold on, Kanji.” More paper rustling. “I...I think I've found it. Ryouichi Shirogane...yes, I think that's his name. I've only met him once in passing, so I can't be sure but...”

“I mean, how many Shiroganes are there in Inaba?” Kanji finished.

“Yes, that's true.” He could hear the slump in Yukiko's voice. “And you can't get in touch with Naoto-kun?”

“No. She ain't answerin' her cell. I jus'...I fig'red you guys should know, cause she's our friend an' all. I'm gonna keep tryin' t'call her, but...”

Yukiko picked up the hint. “I'll call the others and make sure they know. And if any of us can reach her, we can try to let the others know.”

Kanji nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him, and sighed. “Dammit. If she's keepin' quiet cause she don't wanna be a bother...”

“She'll be okay, Kanji-kun,” Yukiko murmured. “One way or another, I'm sure she'll be okay. Naoto-kun is strong and smart.”

“Ain't always so smart,” he muttered, but then just coughed. “Yeah, I know. Lissen, I'll let you call the others. I'm gonna try callin' Naoto again.”

“Right. Let me know if there's anything else I can do, Kanji-kun. Okay?”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Yukiko-senpai.” He disconnected his call from Yukiko, and tried Naoto's number again, ignoring the way it felt like his heart was pounding in his throat.

_Ring...ring...ring...ring...ring... “You have reached the voicemail of—”_

He hung up again, bringing his texts back up.

_dammit Naoto pick up your phone_

Screw proper sentences. She didn't care, so he wasn't going to care right now. _Why isn't she answering!?_ Kanji's brain started flickering through every possible situation. She'd been with her grandfather and was at the hospital. Something had happened at the school where he was speaking and maybe she'd collapsed too. Would Naoto warrant a mention in the news? It hadn't mentioned anyone else collapsing. Wouldn't that be a big story on its own? Maybe it was something worse. Maybe there had been an accident on the way to the hospital. Didn't her grandpa have some kind of butler or secretary or something? If they'd been going to the hospital after Shirogane-san went in...there was a storm coming. The car could have hit the storm first; they could be wrecked in a ditch and no one would know.

Kanji could hear the rain start outside his window, and he set the phone down, pushing a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm down. _Jumpin' t'conclusions. Knock it off. Think._ Naoto was smart—hell, she was the smartest person Kanji had ever met, though she didn't always act like it. She'd figure something out. She wasn't going to just sit around and do nothing.

She wouldn't let anything happen to herself.

_She threw herself into the hands of Namatame just to prove a point. That grandpa's the only family she's got. It's not like you got any good idea of how her brain works. You got no damn idea of what she could be doin' right now._

_Dammit!_

Kanji slammed back out of his room, making his way back to the kitchen, where his mother was finishing the dishes. “Kanji?” Her voice was quiet, not pushing...just concerned.

“Where's that article again.” He picked up a piece of the paper, scanning it.

“Here—Kanji-kun, here.” She reached out one hand and pointed to a page still on the table.

He dropped the paper he'd been holding, letting it slip from his hands to the table and onto the floor, grabbing at the news story and reading it again—and again—and again, looking for anything he could find. Any information, indication of anyone else, _anything_.

And there was nothing. Just a short story, indicating that the detective had collapsed and been taken to the hospital. There was no mention of anyone with him, any witnesses at the scene, nothing. It was so uninformative, it didn't seem real.

A crash of thunder made the lights flicker, and Kanji finally glanced up. “Looks like that storm's coming in faster than I'd thought,” his mother murmured. “It did look like it was starting further to the south.”

 _South. Isn't..._ He tried to get a spacial map of the area in his head. Was the Shirogane estate south? Well, there wasn't much to the north beyond the shopping district except the train station... Where Narukami had lived was over to the...what, east? So... _Yeah. So the storm's already down there._

Maybe the house had been struck by lightning and was on fire. What if she'd been all alone in there? The house could have collapsed!

“Dammit.” Kanji tossed the paper back onto the table, reaching up to tug at his hair.

“Kanji dear, what's wrong?” His mother's voice was strained, and she set a hand on his arm.

“I gotta figure out where Naoto is. Tha's her grandpa in the paper an' she ain't answerin' her phone. I gotta... I jus' gotta find 'er.” _Maybe she's called back._ His hand went to his pocket, but it was empty; he'd left his phone on his bed. Back across the upper apartment at top speed, to snatch up the phone and look at the display—one text message, but it wasn't from Naoto.

           From Narukami: _Have you gotten in touch with Naoto?_

Kanji hit the call back button, slumping to sit on his futon.

_Ring...ring...ri—_

“Kanji?”

Kanji forced a deep breath in and out. “I can't get 'er to answer 'er phone. We got a hell of a thunderstorm here; I'm afraid we're gonna lose cell service soon. Hell, prob'ly lose power along with it.”

“It's okay, Kanji. Have you tried calling her house?”

He blinked. “I don't got her house phone number.”

“Hm.” There was a pause, and it sounded like Yu was tapping at his phone. “Damn, I don't have it saved. I swore I had it. I'm sure you can look it up somewhere, though.”

“Wh—what? Why can't you look it up?”

“Because I'm not the one in Inaba, Kanji. If there _is_ anything wrong, she's going to need a bit more than a voice on the other end of the phone.” As much as Kanji didn't like his senpai's logic, it was hard to argue with. “Kanji.”

“Yeah.”

“If anyone can do this, it's you.” He could hear Yu smile. “Make sure she's okay, and let the rest of us know, okay?”

“Y-yeah. Okay.” Kanji took a breath, then stopped. “Wait. How the hell you'd find about all this?”

“Yosuke sent me a message, after he said he'd heard about an article in the paper from Chie.” _And Yukiko-senpai told Chie-senpai._ “Call her again, Kanji.”

“R-right. Thanks, senpai.” Kanji let the call end, then stared at his phone. _If Senpai thinks you should call again, then just call. You've already called twice._

_Didn't leave a message._

_What would I say?_

He brought up her contact card and hit the call button.

_Ring...ring...ring...ring...ring... “You have reached the—”_

He hung up, cursing. One more text.

_shit I'm gonna find your house # then_

That way, if she suddenly got them before he found her number, she'd know. _Who would know...?_ She'd worked with the Inaba police station. Maybe someone at the station would know. _Calling the cops ain't exactly my favorite idea, but..._ At least he knew the number...for better or worse.

 _Ring...ring...ring..._ “Hello, Inaba Police Department.”

“Hey, I need to get a number from you.” Not the smoothest beginning to a conversation.

Luckily, the cop sounded more bored than thrown by the question. “A number? Like a phone number? Listen sir, we can't just go giving out information on people. Do you have a legal request?”

“I gotta get in touch with a detective you worked with. Naoto Shirogane. I need her home phone number.”

The cop had the nerve to laugh. “Whoever you are, you're kidding yourself. There's no way we can just give out personal information for anyone, let alone a detective working with the station. You're out of luck, kid.” And with that, the line went dead.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Kanji slammed a hand into the wall behind him, the thunder oh-so-helpfully crashing in tandem with his outburst. _Now what...?_ Was there anyone else he could think of who might know? Who else knew Naoto? If Narukami didn't have her home number, it didn't seem likely that anyone else would. She talked to him more than anyone else. The police weren't talking, so...

Wait. There was one person on the police force who might... _might_ just talk. And that was a home phone number he did have.

_Ring...ring..._

“Good evening, Dojima residence.”

In spite of the situation, the corners of Kanji's lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smile. “Uh hey, Nanako-chan. Is your dad around?”

“Umm....yeah. Hold on one sec.” Kanji heard the phone get set down, and then footsteps running away. He focused on breathing. _In...out...in...out..._

“Dojima speaking.” Aaaand there went breathing. Even after all this, knowing that the man wasn't going to breathe down his neck for existing, it was still hard for Kanji to keep cool.

“Um. ...Hey, uh, it's Kanji Tatsumi.”

A pause, and then a confused Dojima spoke again. “Tatsumi? What are you calling for?”

“I, uh... I was hopin' you could help me.” The room lit up around him with lightning, thunder cracking down a moment later. It was getting hard to hear the phone through the pounding rain. “I need a phone number an' I don't know anyone who'd have it.”

“A phone number? For who?”

“Naoto Shirogane. I need the number for her house. S'a story in the evenin' paper 'bout her grandpa collapsin' an' I'm tryin' to get a hold of her t'see if she's okay an' everything, but she ain't answerin' her cell, so I wanna call her house but I can't get anyone t'give me her number.” Once the floodgates opened, Kanji couldn't stop the words.

“Whoa, slow down.” He heard the thunder on Dojima's line a moment before it showed up in his room. “What's this about Shirogane's grandfather?”

“Article in the evenin' paper. I guess he collapsed after doin' some talk.”

“And now you can't get in touch with Shirogane. Hm.” Though Kanji didn't really begrudge Dojima the time to think...well, no, okay that wasn't true he _did_ begrudge him the time, he begrudged the _hell_ out of that time.

“You gotta help me, Dojima-san. Yer th'only person who can.” He hated begging, and this was dangerously close to begging. But it was to help Naoto, and there was a whole bunch of pride Kanji was willing to swallow if it meant helping Naoto.

Another beat, and then Kanji heard the older man sigh. “Okay, hold on. Give me a second.” Some papers got moved around on Dojima's side. “Under any other circumstance, Tatsumi, there's no way in hell I should be doing this. But it's not like Shirogane to be this hard to reach. With this storm...well, I'd rather know someone was looking out for her, especially if her guardian's in the hospital. Dammit, where is that book...”

“Thank you, Dojima-san. Really means a lot.”

“Mm-hmm. Ah, there it is. You got a pen and paper?” Kanji grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off his desk, and took down the number Dojima gave him. “If you can, let me know when you hear something. Don't worry if it's too late, just call when you get a chance. Alright?”

“Sure thing. Thanks again, Dojima-san.”

“No problem, Tatsumi.”

Kanji hung up the call, and stared at the number. _This is it. You gotta do this._ Even with the nervousness of calling Naoto's home pulsing through his brain, the adrenaline from the storm and the panic of making sure she was alright managed to keep it at bay. He put in the number and pressed call.

_Ring...ring...ring...ring..._

“Good evening, Shirogane residence.”

 _Oh no._ It was Naoto, but she sounded awful. Her voice was strained, pitched too high to be comfortable, forced. She'd been relaxing more into a female persona (so to speak, really) ever since the school year had started but...no, this didn't sound right at all.

“Naoto? That you?” Better safe than sorry. ...Until there was no answer. Kanji's heart leapt into his throat. _Oh c'mon, don't let me get in touch with her jus' to lose her...!_ “Naoto? You there? C'mon, answer me.”

Another beat, but then the timid too-high voice came back. “Kanji-kun? How...how did you get this number?”

 _Oh thank god she recognizes my voice._ “You ain't answering yer cell, so I asked around t'see if anyone knew yer house number. 'Course, no one did so I called the station, but they didn't want t'give that out so I ended up callin' Dojima-san an' I guess he knew, or he looked it up or sumthin.” He could hear his voice was coming out a little rougher and faster than he intended, but that just meant he matched her.

He heard Naoto take a shaky breath. “My phone battery m-must have died. You...Dojima-san?”

She was flustered, sounding more confused and out of it than he'd ever heard her. “Are you okay?” _Maybe there's somethin' fishy in the water at her place? Is she gonna pass out too? Dammit..._

“O-of course, why wouldn't—” Her voice suddenly broke as he heard a loud clap of thunder in his ear, which echoed seconds later around him. _That one was louder. Storm's getting' worse._ “I be?” she managed to finish.

“Jus' saw the paper. Ma picked it up on her way home from the store, an' it's got sumthin' in it 'bout yer gramps, I think. I mean, can't be too many Shiroganes around, right?” _My voice is not shaking. I am totally fine. Dammit..._

“Evening...paper?” Damn, she really was out of it. But that answered if she knew about the article or not. _She's probably all alone in that huge-ass house. Cause wouldn't that butler-secretary-whatever be with her grandpa?_ “O-oh. Yes. Of course. I'm f-fine.” Her sentence finished strong in the word department, but left a hell of a lot to be desired in the strength department.

“Ya sure? I mean, you got kinda a big house up there, an' if you're all along...” _You'll do what? Stay with her? That's gonna go over like a lead balloon._ He didn't really know what else to offer, so he just let the question hang.

“Quite sure. I appreciate the consideration, but I am j—” The loudest thundercrack yet made Kanji pull the phone away from his ear, but even when it echoed back in the shopping district, he could still hear the shriek on the other end of the phone.

It was getting harder to breathe with this knot in his throat. “Naoto? Naoto!”

A moment later, a now very shaken detective managed a response. “My a-apologies.”

 _Dammit! Is she always this stubborn!?_ He knew the answer to that, though. “You sure as hell don't sound alright, Naoto.” His voice was getting rougher, his mouth dry as he gripped the cell phone.

“I... I assure you th-that there is n-nothing t-to be done, and I a-am fine. I'm...I'm just n-not...” He heard a thunderclap, but the sound cut off oddly...

...and then the “lost call” beep as the connection ended.

“Naoto? Dammit!” He tried calling back, but the automated voice informed him that the number was unavailable. The power must have gone out up at the estate. Naoto was clearly freaked out, to a point that Kanji hadn't thought it was possible to get the detective to. She was probably alone in the house, with a dead cell phone, and no power.

_No way in hell I'm leavin' her there._

Abandoning his phone, his room, everything, he made for the front door. Distantly, he heard his mother call after him. He shouted back a response and jumped down the stairs.

“I gotta go do this. I'll be right back!”

And then it was out into the rain, head down, full speed, toward the house he'd only been to once before.

 

```

 

He'd come close to falling several times, the wind throwing him around and bombarding him with tiny spears of freezing cold spring rain, but if his body was cold, he couldn't feel it. All he could feel was the beat of the pavement under his shoes, and his heart pounding in his chest. _Almost there, Naoto..._ When the estate finally came into view, he pushed for a final burst of speed to get him up to the door. _Bangbangbangbang_.

No answer.

“C'mon, c'mon...” He blinked, trying to get the water out of his eyes, and tried again. _Bangbangbangbang._ “Naoto?” Nothing. He was just about to try again when the door suddenly slammed open, and the one behind it let out a yelp of surprise.

Now the cold set in, but this was the same chill he got when he thought about that final battle against Izanami—a cold deep in his chest, the feeling of utter fear. He was absolutely right; Naoto wasn't okay in the least. Dressed in a loose-fitting white button-down shirt and ratty grey pants, her hair was disheveled and her eyes burning red, tears still streaking down her cheeks. The hat she constantly wore was gone, and from a quick glance, it looked like she'd discarded the boy look for the evening.

It may have been the only time Kanji couldn't have cared less about whether or not he could see how big her boobs were. Any hesitation he had about being around her was utterly gone.

“Shit, Naoto.” Kanji ducked into the house, grabbing for the door which had blown into the wall from the force of the wind, and forced it shut again, trying to keep as much water out of the house as possible. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and tried to find any other words to say to her.

“K-Kanji-kun.” _Oh shit..._ She sounded worse in person than she did on the phone. Her voice was coming in hiccups, cracking on every other syllable. “Y-you're...b-but...w-why...” Breathing was getting difficult again. “Y-you're all wet.”

He turned to look at her again, now positive the door was going to stay shut, and all he could do was blink. Something was very, _very_ wrong with the detective. “Yeah. It's rainin'.” He went to walk over to her, and then thought better of it. _I'm really drenched. Better not get water all over th'floor. House costs more than my life._ He swallowed and tried again. “What the hell is wrong? Thought ya said you were fine.”

“I-I'm fine.” Naoto gestured, trying to wave it on, but she noticeably flinched when the thunder crashed around them. “I-It's j-just a st-st-storm. P-power w-went out.”

 _Just a storm!? This ain't just a anything, Naoto!_ He just stared at her, lost as to how she could keep denying her panic. “I ain't never seen you this worked up about anything. C'mon, you c'n talk to me. What's up?”

“I-I...” Naoto bit back a sob, and a knife wedged itself in Kanji's chest. “J-Just d-don't like st-storms, a-and...” The thunder roared and she flinched again, wrapping her arms tight across her torso. “A-and n-now the p-power's o-off, and G-G-Grampa...”

Her voice gave out and Kanji saw her waver. _Hell with the floors!_ Before she could fall, he ducked forward and caught her arms, holding her up. “Hey, whoa, it's okay. C'mon.” He looked around and found a chair just to the side, and slowly moved her over there so she could sit down. As soon as she was seated, she curled into a ball, knees to her chest and face to her knees. He'd never been so aware of their height difference before, as he stood at her side and she made herself as small as possible. “This ain't just the storm.” She didn't respond. “Naoto.”

He almost missed her response. “I-I'll be f-fine.”

Kanji huffed, fists clenching. “Dammit, Naoto, stop tryin' ta be so damn perfect an' only relyin' on yourself all the time!” She flinched tighter at his raised voice, and Kanji choked, the knife still in his chest twisting. “Dammit, sorry. Didn't mean t' shout. But...” He crouched down so that he was at least closer to her eye level. “You don't gotta hide everything.”

“Wh-what w-was I supposed to d-do?” Her already too-high voice was climbing to a hysterical shriek. “It's a-already r-raining out there a-and I can't g-go anywhere in th-this much r-rain s-so what what anyone g-going to _do_ about it!?”

Now he really was having trouble breathing. _Dammit, I can't beat the shit out of th'storm for doin' this to her but hell if I wouldn't try..._ “I'll figure somethin' out.” How his voice sounded that calm was anyone's guess. He glanced around the room, trying to see if there was anything in the estate that would help in a power outage. Not surprisingly, he didn't find anything. ...At least, nothing he'd recognize as useful. “I was gonna offer to stay here with you, but if th' power's out, that ain't exactly the best idea I guess.” _Puttin' it mildly._

“B-but... H-how...” She trailed off, and came back a moment later. “K-Kanji-kun.”

That knife felt like it was getting hotter. He looked back at her. “Yeah?”

“W-what c-can we do? W-we c-can't go back out th-there in this...” Naoto's eyes flickered to the window, where the rain was still pounding down.

Kanji scoffed. “Like hell we can't. You sure as hell ain't staying in this dark-ass house by yourself.”

Naoto's eyes widened. “I _c-can't!_ ” Her voice broke on the last word, devolving into a horrified whine.

That was the last straw. The knife gave one last wrench and he could feel his heart shatter. _I don't give a shit about what happens to me. But I ain't leavin' her like this. Not if it's th'last thing I do. I can't._ “Naoto, yer grandpa's in the hospital, yer freaked out by the storm, an' the power's out at yer house. I'm not leaving you here.” He shifted so that he could catch her blue-grey eyes dead on, trying to convey whatever strength he could to her. “You got a raincoat?”

He hadn't known her eyes could get wider. “K-Kanji-kun...”

Each word was a statement. “Do. You. Have. A. Raincoat.”

Kanji could almost see Naoto slump in defeat as she nodded and pointed to a closet on the far end of the room. “Th-the blue o-one.”

“Prob'ly coulda guessed. Don' move, okay?” Kanji stood, his eyes not leaving her until he was sure she'd be okay if he walked away for a moment. When it looked like she wasn't likely to fall over, he bolted for the coat closet, opening the door and moving the coats around until he found what he was looking for: a navy blue rain poncho, clearly sized for someone of Naoto's height. Grabbing it, he hurried back to Naoto, kneeling down next to her again. He desperately wanted to reach out and try to comfort her, but he couldn't tell how she'd take it. “Hey,” he murmured, letting her know he'd come back.

And she promptly burst into tears again. Kanji's throat closed up. _What'd I do!?_

“Shit, I'm...” _What am I sorry for?_ “Dammit, I don' even know what I did, but I'm sorry anyway.” He shifted, moving to crouch rather than kneel. “C'mon. I found your coat.”

Watery eyes looked up at him, and he held out the poncho. “...c-can't...go o-out th-th-there. C-can't...w-walk.”

Whatever he'd tried to say in response to that died in his throat, the pieces of his heart exploding into dust. _This ain't right... What the hell happened t'make her this bad...?_ It was physically painful to see the detective in this much distress. She was never this upset. But his mind was made up. He was getting her out of this house one way or another. He swallowed, forcing his voice to work again. “Don't need to. C'mon. Can ya stand?”

She paused, then uncurled to set her feet on the floor and her hands on the arms of the chair. She took a breath—lost it to a clap of thunder—then tried again, pushing off to stand. Her knees buckled a second later, and Kanji moved in a flash, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to catch her. “Hey, whoa, it's okay. C'mon.” _Did I already say that? I think I said that already. Oh well._ He held out the poncho with his other hand.

Naoto looked up the stairs, pointing with a hand that was shaking worse than the trees outside. “M-my phone...”

“We'll figure 'at our later.” _NOT my priority, an' I don't know why it's yours!_ When Naoto didn't move on her own, he moved his arm—made sure she was still standing—and then pulled the poncho around her shoulders. As if unaware, Naoto's arms moved into the sleeves of the poncho, and Kanji fastened the front.

“Wh-where...what...”

With the poncho closed, Kanji flipped the hood over her hair, meeting her gaze again and hating every speck of pain and uncertainty he saw in them. “You trust me?”

She blinked. “Wh-what...?”

“Do you trust me?”

A blink. Another. Then slowly, a nod. “Y-yes, o-of course...”

“Then hang on, tight as you need.” _This is the only way I'm gonna get her outta here._ He ducked enough to get one arm behind her knees and picked her up bridal style, keeping her tight to his chest. The detective yelped and went stiff, nearly knocking her out of his grip. “You gotta try an' relax, Naoto. Now hold on.” The arm under her knees was just free enough to reach for the doorknob and keep a hold of it in order to close it again, and then he took a breath.

_I gotta get her back home._

He took off running back to the shopping district, and as Naoto finally relaxed enough to wrap around his neck, he just held her tighter.

Any tears shed would melt together with the rain.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He could barely feel his arms by the time he got back to the shopping district, but caring about that was the last thing on his mind. The shaking, terrified girl in his arms was the only thing that mattered.

And if he was honest with himself, it had been that way for a long time.

“Ma!” he bellowed as he got to the delivery back door, kicking at it with a foot. He'd managed the door at the estate with Naoto in his arms, but now he was even more soaking wet and freezing cold, and he didn't want to test his luck. Besides, it was possible this door was locked.

Luck that held out, as the door opened seconds later, revealing his mother with a baffled look on her face. “Kanji, what...who is this? What in the world are you doing?”

“Lemme in.” She stepped to the side, letting Kanji in and pushing the door closed behind him. “Power's out at her place an' I din't want to just leave her. Not with her gramps all sick an' whatever.”

His mother's eyes widened. “Your classmate...? I didn't think you were serious—”

“Towels, Ma? Please?”

“Why don't you let me—” She reached out for Naoto, and it didn't matter what the next words were, because there was no way in heaven or hell that he was letting go.

“I got her!” That was louder than he'd intended. He pulled Naoto closer to his chest. “I jus' need to get her warm!”

“I'll get towels, and light the hearth upstairs then.” She vanished, and Kanji kicked off his shoes—realized that Naoto didn't even have any shoes and dammit her feet had to be _freezing_ what kind of an _idiot_ was he—and cursed himself for being so stupid. His mother appeared a moment later with several towels, and with her help, they got Naoto out of her poncho and dried off the best they could. For the detective's part, she'd become entirely unresponsive—clearly still alive and functioning, but firmly in shock. Kanji couldn't blame her. He—unwillingly—let her sit on a chair near him as he tried (mainly in vain) to dry off at least a little, until his mother returned with blankets.

“The hearth is warming up nicely, if you want to take her in there,” she said, draping the blanket—it looked so massive in comparison to her—on the slumped detective's shoulders. “Here. Make sure you get wrapped up in this as well. You're both going to catch cold if you're not careful.”

“I'll be fine. More worried 'bout her.”

“Well then at least let me as your mother be worried for-”

“ _She's more important!_ ” He hadn't meant to shout, but there was too much pent up emotion behind the sentence to let it be anything else. His mother blinked, unmoving, and he turned his head away. “I jus' wanna make sure she's okay.”

“Okay, Kanji.” She left her last few towels next to Naoto, set a hand on his cheek, and walked out. His face was burning. He didn't care. Grabbing the towels and blankets and throwing them over his shoulder, he carefully picked up the now swaddled Naoto and carried her up the stairs and into the living space.

It wasn't much, especially now that he'd seen the inside of the estate, and the beginnings of doubt started to trickle into his mind. _Was this really a great idea? Is she gonna want to be here? You ain't exactly her best friend, and you ain't got shit to offer her that she don't already have._ He shook his head. None of that was going to do anything about _right now_.

He set her down on the couch, keeping the blanket tucked around her, and made sure to get the edges under her feet so they could warm up. He went to move away when he felt a cold drip on his hand, and he looked back to see that her hair was still damp enough to drip. “Dammit.” He grabbed one of the towels his mother had given them...and froze. Just setting it on her head wasn't going to help matters. But, the alternative...

_She's not payin' any attention to you, Tatsumi. You gonna let her sit there with drippin' wet hair?_

He took a breath and unfolded the towel over her head, gently moving the cloth around to dry her hair. She wavered along with his movements, still seemingly in shock, but never said a word and never protested his ministrations. _Prob'ly the only time I'll ever get this close to her._ He tried not to think about how she felt under his hands, even through the towel. Tried not to think about anything as he pulled the towel back and saw her hair flying in all directions. Pretended he wasn't thinking about anything as he ran his fingers through her hair, trying to get it to sit in something like her usual fashion...

Ignored the lump in his throat, took his hand away, folded the towel and set it on her head for extra warmth.

_Dammit._

He stood, slipping out of the room so he could find something not-soaking-wet to wear. Try as he might to ignore it, he was shivering fairly badly by now and it was only going to get worse if he stayed in wet clothes. Opening the drawers, he stared blankly at the fabric, not being able to see through the memory of Naoto standing in that doorway, terrified and broken, barely able to speak...

It wasn't until he heard the wood creak that he noticed he was gripping it too tightly. He swallowed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the dresser, and picked up his trusty purple hoodie from the corner it had been living in. They were the warmest clothes he owned, and some of the more comfortable.

No sooner had he gotten changed than he heard a soft tap at his door and he spun, heart racing. _Naoto...?_ “Yeah?”

It was his mother. “I see you've gotten her all fixed up for now,” she said, voice low.

“Y-yeah, I guess.” He slumped. “Sorry f'r yellin' at you.”

She just smiled. “I don't blame you, Kanji. I understand completely.” The thought that she might actually be right—he'd been kinda obvious—made Kanji's stomach twist. “When she wakes up, try to get her changed into something dry, will you? I'll hang up her wet things so they'll be ready for her tomorrow.”

“Sure. Thanks, Ma.” She pulled him forward to set a kiss to his forehead and then left again. He took a breath, grabbed the blanket from his futon—a lovely oversized thing he'd made himself a few years back, so it wasn't perfectly made but man was it warm—and walked back to the living space.

Naoto hadn't moved, still staring blankly in front of her, tucked inside her blanket. He forced himself to breathe. Grabbing the last of the towels, he stuck it on his own head and huddled next to the hearth. From there he could get warm _and_ keep an eye on her.

For a long while, nothing changed. The chill was slowly trying to leech out of his body, and he had to hope the same was true of Naoto. So when she finally moved—a hand reaching up to touch the towel on her head—he looked over and saw her alert again, if a bit confused.

“Naoto. Yer...um. You...” He coughed. _Finish a sentence, moron._ “Mornin'.” _Really!?_ She had just 'woken up,' in a way. Maybe she'd take it as a joke.

...this _was_ Naoto Shirogane, though.

He saw her blink, then tilt her head back to look at the window over her head. The storm had calmed down, but it was still raining with decent force. “It...it still evening.”

 _Well, that's as close to 'er takin' it as a joke as you're gonna get._ He chuckled, though there wasn't much effort behind it. “Well, proves you're better than before, I guess, if you c'n still talk like 'at.”

She lowered her head, and not for the first time, Kanji wondered if he'd—somehow—said the wrong thing. A thousand awful possibilities flickered through his head and he was just about to say something when the barely audible voice came back. “I'm sorry.”

 _What!?_ He frowned. “Sorry? What for?”

“For the...this...inconvenience. For my actions.”

Kanjo couldn't believe what he was hearing—or rather, he wished he didn't believe it, but even knowing Naoto the little bit that he did, it was obvious she genuinely thought something was wrong. “Hell with that.” Her head snapped up, and the look in her eyes said everything. He pushed with one hand, letting the blanket slide him closer to the foot of the couch, then turned so he could face her, pulling the towel off of his head. He couldn't tell if surprise or something else was keeping her eyes on him, but he wouldn't let her gaze go. “You ain't got nothin' to apologize for. Jus'...” He pushed his hair back—and it was still soaking wet because while he dried Naoto hair properly he'd ignored his own—and frowned. “Everybody's scared-a somethin'. Hell, Chie-senpai's afraid-a thunderstorms too, I guess.” That had been a surprise when he'd found out. Chie didn't seem the type to be afraid of much of anything.

Naoto shook her head, unmoved. “It's...” She gave a soft sigh, and Kanji wished yet again that she'd just say half of the things that clearly came into her head. “There are compounding issues, in my case.”

 _Compounding...?_ He blinked. Each definition his mind wanted to give him didn't sound quite right, and he knew this was something he should remember, but it wasn't coming to him. _Screw it._ “Whatever that mean, it don't matter.”

Naoto's hand swung down, hitting the couch cushion next to her with her fist with a force that startled him, given how still she'd been up until then. “It _does_ matter. I...” And in a breath, that strength was gone again, her hand relaxing and her eyes flickering away from his. “I'm sorry.”

“Like I said b'fore. You ain't gotta be sorry.” A tickle in his throat was threatening to crack his voice, and he coughed—then had just enough time to bury his face in the blanket before he sneezed. _Damn. Prob'ly did catch a cold. Oh well. S'worth it._

Naoto's eyes were wide when he looked back up again. “You came to the estate in the rain...and all the way back. You must be drenched to the bone. Kanji-kun, why in the world would you—”

“J-just cause. Don't worry 'bout me. I'm okay.” He could feel his face burning again, and he'd be _damned_ if he made a slip like he had with his ma earlier. _Oh right._ “Listen, Ma said when you came 'round, I should get ya some dry clothes. I, uh... I don't got much, but I...I'll find ya somethin'. Gonna get sick if ya stay in what you got.”

Naoto blinked. “I...oh.” She'd missed the brunt of the storm with the help of her coat, but he knew that it didn't mean she'd stayed totally dry. The wind had been hell. She grabbed the edges of the blanket and pulled them closer. “Very well.”

“Jus'...stay here, arright?” She didn't move, so he stood up, grabbed the towel from behind her— _don't touch her, don't touch her—_ and then the one from where he'd been sitting, and headed back to his room. He tossed the towels toward the laundry pile, and walked into his room—and froze.

 _Shit. She's gonna be wearing my clothes._ Incredibly hot and _very_ distracting images aside, he was at least a foot taller than she was, and significantly broader in the shoulders. Did he even own anything that would fit her? _Damn, I mean even my shirts are gonna look like dresses on her..._ And then the image of Naoto in one of his shirts, the bottom hem maybe to mid-thigh, hair mussed, face red and turned away and _dammit!_ One hand went to his nose, willing it to behave, and the other pulled open the bottom drawer of his dresser. There had to be something.

Pushed to the back of the drawer he found an old pair of drawstring pants that had to be from at least a growth spurt or two ago and was certain he'd gotten rid of. Grabbing those, he looked in his closet and found a white henley shirt he hadn't worn in a while. _These'll have to do._ And his nose had behaved. It was a miracle. He folded the clothes up and walked back to the living space.

Looking in, apparently his mother had been in because Naoto was clutching one of their oversized mugs, staring into the liquid like she was trying to make it do a trick or read the future or something. “Hey, uh...” He tried to be quiet, but he startled her anyway, her grip slipping on the mug for just a second—enough to make his heart stop and his brain to start cursing him out. “S-sorry if I scared ya.”

“No, I...” She looked back at the mug, and then set it down. “Just startled.”

There was a pause, and neither of them said anything, and _oh right it's my turn to say something_. He shifted his weight. “Uh, so I...um.” His face was burning again, dammit couldn't he say one sentence without looking like an idiot... He held the clothes out toward her. “Th-these should prob'ly fit you. I don't think I got anythin' smaller anymore. You c'n, um...” He shifted his grip so that one hand could gesture down the hallway. “Bathroom's down there.” _Nailed it. Not._

She watched him for a moment, but then nodded. “Oh. Yes, of course. Thank you.” She stood, leaving the blanket to fall onto the couch behind her, and walked over to him. She took the clothes and she moved out of his way and then she was gone and Kanji could breathe again. _Dammit, dammit, dammit_.

He eyed the blanket sitting next to the hearth, the one he'd been wearing up to that point. Setting a hand to the fabric, it was still remarkably dry for having been sitting on wet clothes, but he folded it up wet side out and set it next to the hearth again. _I'll let her have that._ He'd be fine with one of the other blankets in his room—the summer blanket, or the one he'd had on his bed before he'd made the larger one. Then he grabbed the mug she'd set down, setting it next to the hearth so that whatever she was drinking—tea, from the looks of it—could stay warm until she got back. He folded the blanket she'd been wearing too, setting it to the side.

All the busy work done, he had nothing left to do than sit back down at the hearth, stare into the fire, and try not to think about the fact that he'd just given Naoto his clothing to wear. _Shit._ He'd been trying to curb this...there wasn't a better word, _crush_ on her since the end of last term. Naoto was all business, unfazed by anything and everything around her (at least in terms of people). She'd been flustered on Valentine's Day, but he'd have been willing to guess that it was more due to the expectation of people receiving chocolate from her than anything else.

On his way out of school, she'd stopped him and handed him a small box, wishing him a happy Valentine's Day, and then vanished again. They'd been nice, store-bought (or at least they looked store-bought; he assumed they were store-bought), and he'd chickened out later that day on asking her to eat them with him, sending a simple 'thanks' text instead. Likewise, the White Day gift he'd intended to give her was still sitting in his room, hidden in a bag in his closet, having been replaced with a hastily bought box of white chocolate chip cookies that she accepted with grace and he doubted she ever ate.

It was utterly hopeless that he'd ever catch her attention—especially when he couldn't manage to speak a proper sentence around her. Between her disinterest in relationships, his inability to do anything useful, and their impending graduation sure to take her to a brilliant college and him back into the textiles shop...there wasn't much point. So he tried to shove his feelings down somewhere else, somewhere he could try and forget about them, somewhere they couldn't hurt so much anymore.

_Nice job of that tonight, Tatsumi. First-class avoidance, risking your life. A+._

A sound from behind him made his head turn back, and Naoto was standing in the doorway ( _shit how long has she been there!?_ ) in his shirt and pants and the sleeves were way too long and it was _adorable dammit don't think like that_ and he fought his way to his feet. “Oh, uh—here, lemme...” One hand reached for her clothes, and his brain kicked him in the teeth for being awkward, and his face flushed. “I mean, not fer...uh, it's...” _Dammit!_ He sighed. “Ma said she'd hang 'em up to let 'em dry.”

“Oh. Of course.” Totally unfazed. _I'm so punching above my weight. Dammit._ She handed him the clothes, and he tried not to acknowledge that he had them as he walked out to find his mother.

She wasn't far, sitting in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee. “Ah, Kanji. Are those Naoto-kun's?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice to not say something else horrifically embarrassing in front of his mother, and handed them off to her, heading back to the living space again. He was sure he could hear his mother laughing. _Damn old hag._ Walking in, Naoto hadn't moved, an odd expression on her face. He blinked. “What's up?”

“Hm? Nothing.” The look was gone.

“Looked like you were thinkin' 'bout somethin'.”

Something sparked through her eyes, but he couldn't tell what it was. “Just...nothing of importance.” Her arms wrapped around her torso, a typical gesture from her—but the shiver that followed wasn't. _Dammitdammitdammitdammit_.

“Oh—here, siddown.” He pointed to the side where he'd been sitting, and she sank down to sit as instructed. Grabbing the blanket he'd been wearing, he flipped it out—making sure the damp side was facing away from her—and draped it around her. It was enormous on her (not surprising; it was built to be large for him) and she looked startled.

“B-but...Kanji-kun, you must be freezing.”

 _Kanji-kun. Kanji-kun._ They'd known each other for how long? He'd be Kanji-kun until the day he died. “Nah, m'fine.” He sat back down where she'd been sitting, crossing his legs and tucking his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Truth be told, he wasn't fine—he was still freezing his ass off—but there was no way in hell he could let her see that, because then she wouldn't keep the blanket and he'd fight for her to keep it and it'd just be a mess.

“After all that time in the rain...” She was still trying.

“M'fine, Naoto. Sides, you prob'ly need the blanket more'n I do.” Which likely wasn't true, but he didn't care. The image of her in the too-long sleeves came back to him and his face flushed _yet again_ or maybe it just never stopped being red maybe if he stared at the stones around the hearth long enough it would just stop for once. “The, uh...that all fit okay?”

“Ah. Yes. It is a bit oversized, but given the circumstances I believe that is to be expected. They're quite satisfactory, thank you.” He could see the blanket shift closer to her, and he breathed out, hoping he'd won that fight.

“Good. M'glad.” He didn't dare look up at her, because his mind was still spinning with pictures of her in his shirt, her wrapped up in the blanket from his futon, her— _dammit dammit dammit._ And then his way out, as he saw the mug sitting off to the side. He picked it up, offering it to her. “Here. Tried t'keep it warm for ya.”

“Th-thank you.” He couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto his lips, thinking of her last sentence. _It is a bit oversized, but given the circumstances... They're quite satisfactory._ That sounded like Naoto again. “Is something amusing?”

Her question snapped him back to the present, and he chanced a glance up at her before he looked back now, the smile fading. “Hm—oh, n-no, jus'...” But it crept back onto his lips, and he finally made himself look over at her. “I c'n tell you're feelin' a bit better. Sentences r'all long an' wordy again.”

Now she was the one to blush, and she started to say something...but then closed her mouth, apparently deciding against it. “I...suppose that's accurate,” she finally settled on, taking a sip from her mug before setting it down again in order to completely bury herself in the blanket, only from her eyes up visible.

His stomach gave a familiar twist, and he tried to ignore it. _It's no damn good, kid._ He couldn't think of anything else to say, and apparently neither did Naoto, so they both sat in silence until finally, a question emerged from beneath the blanket.

“Why does this blanket smell of coffee?”

 _What...?_ “Coffee?” He frowned, staring at the blanket, trying to figure out any reason that his blanket would smell like coffee. _I haven't spilled on it, I didn't...even have coffee up there recently, so why..._ “Oh!” It dawned on him. “It's prob'ly from my pin cushion.”

Naoto's eyes slid to look at him, clearly confused. “Your...I'm sorry, but why would a pin cushion smell of coffee?”

“It...hold on.” _Easier to just show her._ He stood and ducked back to his room, grabbing the object from his desk and coming back and handing it to her. “Here.”

One hand snaked out of the blanket and she took the cushion—a knit tomato filled with pins of all sizes. She brought it closer to her face, then down again as she looked at him while he sat back down. “But...why?”

“Keeps the pins from rustin'. 'Sides, like the smell of coffee.” He shrugged. “S'got a fabric, uh, like, layer inside that all the coffee's in, and then I just made the tomato thing t'go around it.” He tried to make a gesture indicating the knit layer over it all, but wasn't sure he was helping so just tucked his hands back in his pocket.

Now both of her hands were holding the tomato, giving it more attention than he was fairly certain it was worth. “This is...truly remarkable.”

His face burned. “I—nah, it's n-nothin'. Jus' a tomato.” He looked away, not sure why he was hiding his face because had there been three minutes so far that he _hadn't_ been blushing?

“Truly.” Her voice was quiet, but firm. “I...think I forget sometimes. For many of you, you have already seen the darkest, hidden portions of each other. My addition to the group was relatively late on, thus I was not present for your own Shadows.” There was a beat, and then she stammered on. “N-not that I feel I have any right t-to see the type of thing your Shadows may have revealed about you, but...”

He looked back to her, and she was staring intently at the tomato, hands tight around it. “But what?” He almost didn't dare to ask.

“It is...disconcerting, knowing that all of you saw that...part of me, and yet I remain much in the dark about all of you.”

It hadn't occurred to him, but there was a truth to that statement. Kanji had no real idea about Chie's Shadow, or Yukiko's or Yosuke's. They'd all had their Personas by the time he got thrown in. Sure, they'd made mentions (clearly Yukiko's had said something about scoring with someone, because Teddie wouldn't shut up about it) and he'd made guesses...but nothing serious. They'd revisited places to train, so he'd seen the castle Yukiko's mind had built, seen the sections of the shopping district Yosuke said had come from Saki...but Naoto wouldn't know any of that. She'd been the last of them to get her Persona.

“So why don' you ask?” Her head suddenly snapped up, eyes wild and confused. “What?”

“I...um.” She was blushing again. “I-it seems like a...breach of personal boundaries, inquiring about something like that.”

“Why? I mean, I'm not gonna lie an' say I'm not happy you didn't see my Shadow.” Even thinking about Naoto having to see the spectacle his Shadow had been... Well, if he didn't have a chance now, he sure as _hell_ wouldn't have had a chance after that. Talk about a horror show. “But, I mean...we're all friends, right? I ain't gonna keep secrets.” And it was true. If she asked him, he'd tell her. His face would probably light on fire, but he'd tell her.

Her eyes tracked back down to the tomato, and he almost missed the soft sentence she replied with. “Are we?”

That was more than he could take. _How could she_ _ **possibly...!?**_ “The hell you mean by that?” Her eyes closed, keeping silent. His chest was too tight. “Naoto, after all the shit we been through, like hell I ain't gonna consider you all my friends, an' you can all call me your friend! I'd go through hell an' back for any of ya! The hell made you think we weren't?”

She didn't move, didn't speak, didn't do anything for what felt like a lifetime. “It's...” She took a shallow breath. “Foolish of me. Please, never mind it.”

 _Never mind—never **mind it!?**_ “No, I'm not gonna 'never mind it,' Naoto. You said it, so means you were thinkin' it.” Still no response, and what he'd intended as a huff of frustration came out as a growl. “Dammit, Naoto.”

“That's it, don't you see?” Her voice was ratcheting up again, though she still wouldn't look at him, and there was an obvious thread of pain in the words. “I don't... _do_ this. I played the part, I knew what was expected of me last year. We were all...partners, all working the case together and I knew what to do. It's not uncommon for a certain level of familiarity to grow between coworkers. But the case is over now, Kanji-kun, and I am utterly at a loss for what I am to do. The others are preoccupied with their studies and preparing for the inevitable placement exams they will be taking. I see you and Naoki-kun at school and I can exchange pleasantries with the both of you but I lack...I lack the ability, or knowledge or an intrinsic _something_ , to manufacture a further camaraderie that, in others, would otherwise naturally develop.”

There were way too many words in that, but he grabbed at the meaning: _I don't know how to be around people. I don't know how to be friends._ “Just because Chie-senpai an' the others are busy don't mean they ain't your friends anymore.” He couldn't watch her, not yet, and instead focused on the fabric of his pants. “Hell, I ain't talked t'Senpai since he went back to the city, but I'm still friends with 'im.” Okay, that wasn't strictly true, he'd talked to Yu just earlier in the evening, but that barely counted. That wasn't a real conversation. He glanced over at her, and her eyes fell to her hands. “You just...you gotta give us a chance. You gotta give yourself a chance.”

She frowned, the expression barely visible. “How do you mean?”

“I mean...you kinda...” His voice failed and he looked down to his pants again. _How the hell do I say this? You're everything most of us aren't and what I could never be, you're brilliant and beautiful and funny even though you're never trying to be and you work harder for your dreams than anyone else I know and when you were shown the dark places in you, you didn't pretend it hadn't happened or wished it away, you took what the Shadow could teach you and embraced it and every time I'm near you, you make me feel like it's okay to be a guy like me because I think it's fine to be a girl like you and how can you possibly not see what I see in you?_ “You don't really let us...get t'you.” He could see her move, but didn't look up—couldn't look up—couldn't bear to see her face. It was true, though. She was reserved and hidden, and not just with whether or not she was male or female. “I mean, you got a hell of a lot better after your whole Shadow thing, but...ya just kinda keep t'yourself, ya know? An'...” He paused, swallowing his pride and saying the closest thing to the truth he could manage. “You're kinda intimidatin'.”

The moment of stunned silence he was presented with after that was not what he'd been expecting. When she finally spoke, her tone could have just as easily been a reaction to him telling her that he was going to drop out of school and be a dolphin. “I...can't possibly see...how _you_ , of all people, could find _me_ intimidating.”

He scoffed. “Oh c'mon, Naoto. You're...really smart, an'...” He waved his hand, trying to force himself to keep going and chickening out yet again. “An' brave an' shit. You got this whole detective thing down an' you're my age.”

“You are a full foot taller than I am, quite possibly twice my weight, and you could throw me to the other end of the shopping district without so much as breaking a sweat.” Her voice hadn't shifted a bit.

“S-so? That don't mean you ain't intimidatin' in your own way!” He hunched closer to his legs, willing himself to just sink into the floor and be done with it. “Bein' tough don't mean everything. Learned that th' hard way.”

“And neither does being smart.” Her voice softened a shade. “Not being well-suited to academia does not indicate a lack of intelligence. You have proven that time and time again over the past year.” Her hand came into view, as she offered the pin cushion back to him. “Such as this.”

“What, knittin'?” He took the pin cushion, desperately keeping himself from touching her at all. “That don't make me smart.”

“On the contrary. Your work with knitting and sewing demonstrates an exceptional level of spatial knowledge that does not come naturally to many. How many of your creations have started from patterns?”

“Huh?” The question came out of left field, and he rubbed the back of his neck, having to put some honest thought into that. _When was the last time I really used a pattern?_ “Uh, well I guess when I was a kid, I started with some patterns an' stuff, but now I just kinda know how things go together so I don' need them as much anymore.”

“You see? Whereas, if you handed me the same pair of knitting needles and yarn, I would likely make a fool of myself and a mess of the yarn.”

“S'not that hard,” he muttered. “Could teach ya.”

“I believe that you could. I also believe, given enough time and patience, you could teach me to ski.” _T_ _hat_ wasn't a smile he could hide. The ski trip had proven to all of them that there was in fact something the Detective Prince couldn't do, and...well, he also had a few very fond memories of Naoto crashing into him as he tried to teach her to ski. “No person is capable of excelling all fields. Where I am most comfortable around books and evidence lockers, you may find that same comfort here, with your yarn and a warm hearth—and there is nothing to indicate that one is better than the other, besides popular bias. Certainly if we were confronted with a brawl situation, my intellect would prove severely ineffective.”

“I dunno. Jus' confuse the hell out of 'em and run.” He couldn't stop smiling, just looking at his pin cushion. _Maybe this is kinda cool._

He heard her take a breath, and then pause for a moment before managing to speak. “You count me as brave, yet you have seen me as the polar opposite tonight.” He froze, the smile fading. _You don't know what I saw, Naoto... Even terrified and alone, you were so determined to be fine._ He couldn't speak though, and she continued. “I believe it was true bravery that brought you to my door despite significant obstacles to do such.”

“Wasn't nothin',” he murmured, rolling his shoulders, trying to work the tension back out of them.

“Indeed. It wasn't nothing.” It took him a moment to figure out the sentence...and then he saw what she'd done. _Serves me right for talkin' like an idiot._ But he didn't know what to say, how to respond.

Luckily, his mother's voice gave him the out he needed. “Kanji-kun?”

He lifted his head, calling through the door to her. “Yeah, Ma?”

“It's getting late, dear, and you've both had a very long evening. Why don't you get the spare futon situated for Naoto-kun so you can both get some rest?”

 _Stupid stupid stupid of course, she's gotta be exhausted and you're just sitting here like an idiot babbling at her._ “O-oh, yeah sure.” He stood up, looking at Naoto briefly. “Sorry, lemme go...you got that, so...okay, yeah.” He bailed into the hallway, making for the closet where they kept the spare futon. He'd grab one of the other blankets when he went to bed himself, letting her keep the big warm one. Opening the closet door he grabbed the roll, hoisting it out and maneuvering it back to the living space.

“Kanji-kun?” he heard Naoto ask as he came back down the hallway. “Aren't you going to want this back? It is yours, yes?” He stepped in, and she was looking at him, indicating a corner of the futon blanket.

 _There are a thousand things I won't say, Naoto..._ “Yeah—I mean no, s'fine, I got...don' worry 'bout it.” Yup, he was doing really well on this whole sentence thing. He set to unrolling the futon, making sure it lay properly and wasn't too close to the hearth. “Ain't been used in a while, but Ma keeps 'em all...ya know, not musty or whatever. Should be fine.” He gestured to the futon, then lost his train of thought. _I wish there was any not-creepy way to ask her if she wants to crash in my room instead of out here on her own, but that is so many different kinds of not what I can say at all._

“Ah. Yes, I see.” As usual, Naoto was completely cool, blissfully oblivious to Kanji's brain tirades as she stood and swung the blanket over the futon mattress. Taking a step to walk over to the futon, she caught the corner of the hearth and pitched forward—but Kanji's reflexes were good enough that he could catch her arms and keep her upright, though she let out a surprised “Hah!” as he did.

Once she was back on her feet, he let his hands fall away and frowned. “What?”

“You're freezing.” Before he knew what she was doing, she'd leaned up onto her tiptoes and set the backs of her fingers against his cheek. He jolted back, more out of surprise than anything else, but even from such a slight touch it felt like his face was burning where she'd touched him. “I knew you had to be chilled. Why didn't you take the blanket when I offered? You soaked yourself to the core out there; you could get sick!”

His mind was a whirlwind. He couldn't focus at all. “M'fine. 'Sides, you were th'—I mean, I was more...dammit, never mind.” _You are **NOT** slipping up again!_ “I got another blanket in my room. You need anythin' else?”

Her mouth opened, then shut, and she shook her head. “Thank you, Kanji-kun.”

“Sure. Have a good night.” He turned, clicking the small lamp in the corner off as he went, and walked back to his room before he could say anything else he'd regret in the morning. The blanket back in his room was smaller than he liked, but it didn't matter. He grabbed it and dropped to his futon, pulling it over his head and ignoring that it barely covered his feet like that, and groaned into his pillow. He could still feel her fingers on his cheek, still feel the way she felt in his arms, still see those blue-grey eyes watching him...

He pounded one fist into the back of his head. _She is gonna be the death of me, and I will let her walk me right off the cliff, because I can't imagine letting her go._

_Dammit. Why can't I just tell her, let her reject me, and move on?_

There was no way he was going to get to sleep any time soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry that this is so late!! I honestly thought I'd put the second chapter up, so when I came back on here and saw I hadn't, I felt awful!! I do promise I haven't forgotten this story or any of my others; real like has just gotten firmly in the way of me writing much of anything lately. But I need to get myself back in the groove, and this is an awesome way to do it! So I hope this is even close to worth the wait!
> 
> Man, I feel like a jerk. *hides*


	3. Chapter 3

As expected, he couldn't sleep.

He'd expected that; he was still chilled from being out in the rain, his blanket was smaller and thinner than the one he usually slept with, and _oh yeah_ Naoto Shirogane was lying just a room and a hallway away from him. With his usual blanket. In his clothes.

_Dammit._

He'd done everything in his power to keep himself from thinking about it. He'd tried to distract his brain with any awful memory he could think of: the incident with Teddie during the King's Game; his Shadow; King Moron; his Shadow; the time in the hospital with Nanako; his Shadow. Nothing. Everything he could possibly think of dragged him right back to Naoto and made his chest ache.

Not for the first time, he convinced himself that Naoto was probably fast asleep and would not appreciate him clomping in to ask if she was okay and did she want to sleep in his room, not that he wanted it to be weird or anything but she was all alone in that room and she didn't really know the house and if there was something he could do to make it more comfortable... But even just in his thoughts, the sentence dissolved into stupidity and he knew he wouldn't be able to make it work out loud.

 _You're gonna make yourself sick, Tatsumi._ He rolled onto his stomach and put his hands over his head, trying to will the world away, his thoughts away, anything to make his soul stop hurting. This needed to stop. All of this needed to stop. What had started as a weird attraction to a dude-question-mark? had become a reasonable crush on a girl in his class...and had grown into...he didn't even know what. He hesitated to call it obsession; that brought up thoughts of being a stalker and some kind of creeper who would build a shrine in their closet to the person they liked. Kanji wasn't even remotely that bad. It just...it was a compulsion, he guessed. He wanted to be around her, wanted to be a better person because of her, wanted to help her be the best she could be. It hurt him to see her hurt, to see her struggle...and it wasn't the kind of hurt that most of his friends inspired. It was something deeper. It made his chest ache, his stomach twist, his whole body hurt with the urge to do _something_ and not know what to do.

If this was what love was supposed to feel like, it sucked. Maybe it was just unrequited bullshit. That would figure.

His hands felt heavy on top of his head, and it was irritatingly difficult to breathe with his face in his pillow, but he didn't have the willpower to move. Nothing mattered. If he just stayed here, silent and unmoving, maybe he'd fall asleep eventually. That sounded like a plan. He had no interest in anything else in the house. Yes. Nothing in the house. Everything was not worth noting. ...Everything.

And then the piano started playing.

He pushed up from the pillow, frowning as he looked around the dark of the room. Someone was playing the piano downstairs? No one had played the piano in ages. Sure, he knew his mom knew _how_ to play the piano, but she hadn't played it in...wow, he didn't know _how_ long. And this...wasn't one of the songs he recognized from his childhood.

_Fine. I'll go figure out what's going on._

He stood up, straightened his clothes, and padded his way through the house. Walking through the common area, he noted that Naoto wasn't on her futon any more. _Oh yeah...she plays, doesn't she?_ _Keep forgetting_ _about that concert thing. Maybe that's her._ He tried to keep quiet, not wanting to startle whoever was playing, and crept toward the back room where the piano was.

And what he saw...didn't surprise him, but transfixed him anyway. Naoto was perched on the piano bench, slender fingers dancing over the keys like she'd been born to play. Music Kanji didn't recognize but found oddly calming drifted around the room, filling the space with quiet peace with its notes. He felt the tension that had been building in his shoulders ever since he'd first spoken to her during this storm easing away, the concern over anything he'd been thinking of floating away.

_Is this why she plays? Does all music do this? ...Damn, I should learn a proper instrument or something._

He waited in the doorway, just listening to the music, until finally the last note hung in the air and he saw Naoto give a soft smile down to her hands.

“Beautiful.” He didn't know what prompted him to speak, nor whether he was talking about her or the music, but the word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Naoto started, jerking around to look at him, almost smacking her legs into the piano. “You must have an innate familial trait for sneaking up on people.”

He grimaced. _Dammit. I was trying to **not** scare her._ “Sorry.”

She stood, clearly collecting herself, patching together the image of the collected detective he'd seen her wear so often. “My apologies. Your mother assured me I wouldn't wake you, but it appears that was not the case.”

He shook his head. “Wasn't asleep. You're really good.” _Why are you saying shit like that!? What is **wrong** with you!?_

“I...thank you.” A blush spread across her cheeks, and Kanji bit his tongue as his chest wrenched. “I am dreadfully out of practice.”

 _What?_ “Couldn't tell. Wait—you played that keyboard with us for Rise-senpai's show.”

Naoto pulled a face, brushing off the comment. “That hardly counts as playing. That was an ill-begotten disaster from the beginning albeit one with a...more successful conclusion than I had feared.”

“Yeah, I guess.” That was a lot of words, but he could translate: It should have been a royal clusterfuck, but they had actually managed to pull itself off. He didn't have anything else to say, and it seemed neither did she, so they stood in silence for a moment. Kanji desperately looked for anything to say.

Naoto beat him to the punch, and he was content to let her take lead. “So...you...have been having difficulty sleeping as well?”

_See I told you she wasn't going to be able to sleep you should have said something maybe then none of this would have happened and you wouldn't have just sat in your room being an idiot for all that time and what exactly are you going to tell her you can't tell her what you were **actually** doing that was keeping you awake because that's just a whole mess you don't want to get into but you have to say something so **say something you moron**_

In the end, he shrugged. “Sometimes. Get some weird-ass dreams after all the shit we've been through.” It wasn't a lie. He'd had terrible nightmares after the fight with Adachi, and more after Izanami-no-Okami. He was no stranger to insomnia...it just wasn't the cause of _tonight's._

“Indeed.” Her tone was completely understanding. It stood to reason that more of the team would have had bad dreams too.

“Same for you?”

“Erm...” Naoto's fingers toyed with the edges of the sleeves of the shirt was was wearing, and Kanji had to wonder at the hesitation. “Occasionally, though it is not the immediate problem tonight. I...simply cannot seem to fall asleep.”

If someone had told Kanji that time had stopped, he would have believed them in that moment. His heart stopped beating, he stopped breathing...everything stopped. _Is she really saying...the same reason...as me? No, it can't be. It..._ He forced himself to speak, marveling at how even his voice sounded. “Anythin' I can do?”

Her blush returned, brighter than before. “I...well, there...um...” Her voice petered out, and while Kanji would have saved her normally, he had no clue where she was going with that, so he just waited. After another moment, she finished the thought. “It is...lonely.”

He blinked, everything halting again. _SHE IS SERIOUSLY SAYING THIS._ He could feel his face start to burn, and that was inevitable. “Oh. Um, well I can't...I mean, it's...um, well...” Yet again, another eloquent response from Kanji Tatsumi.

Naoto rushed to clarify. “I-I wasn't insinuating anything. Merely an...observation. It is an unfamiliar house after a trying day, and...it...feels...lonely. On my own.”

His brain refused to catch up. The fact that he had absolutely called what she could have been thinking and _didn't act on it_ was killing him. “N-no, it's...I didn't think...I mean, that's not...really...aaah.” This wasn't working at all. He scratched the back of his head, now trying to make the sentences he'd given up on earlier make sense. “I can... I mean, if you don't...if you're okay with it, I can...uh, move my futon into the living room.” A beat, and then he realized that he really couldn't leave that there. “L-like on the other side of the room. So it's not...y'know. Near you. N-not that I...ugh, never mind. I can move, if...if you want.”

“I...” She paused, then stared at the floor, worrying at the hems of her sleeves again. Her voice was just above a whisper when she spoke again. “Yes. I-if you would. I believe that would help.”

Kanji didn't wait for her to change her mind. He vanished back up the stairs and into his room, grabbing an end of his futon and forcing it into something approximating a roll.

It worked better once he remembered to move the blanket.

By the time he managed to force his shaking hands to roll the futon, try to fold the blanket, give up on folding it and just throw it over a shoulder, and walk back into the living area, Naoto had followed back up the stairs. She looked lost, a distant look in her eyes—reminding him again that she really was just about his age. She always seemed so much older.

He marched himself to the opposite side of the room from her futon, refusing to take his eyes off of the futon. _It doesn't matter. She's just over there. Totally like in a different room. ...Except not. But it still doesn't matter. Just focus on your damn futon, Tatsumi._ He got the futon situated and sat down, only then allowing himself to look up at Naoto. The lost look hadn't left her eyes, and he swallowed before managing a response.

“Y...you okay with this? I-I mean, it's not...doesn't feel weird or nothin'?”

There was a beat, and finally the focus came back to her eyes and she shook her head. “N-no, I think this will be quite satisfactory.” Her eyes flickered from his face to the futon, to the floor and back again. “Thank you.”

He forced a 'nonchalant' shrug, his head shaking on its own. “S'nothin.” _Keep telling yourself that and maybe some day it'll be true._ He scooted enough to lie back on the futon, and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders—just far enough up to not scoot it off his feet. “Night.”

He couldn't see her, but her voice came back to him through the sounds of her settling in as well. “Good night, Kanji-kun.”

He closed his eyes and prayed that sleep might find him.

_Just maybe keep the dreams to a minimum, yeah? This shit's complicated enough on its own._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I've finally caught the two up to each other! Goodness. This one is late-ish because I kept thinking I hadn't written any of it and then just today, I realized it was on a thumb drive and not my computer. *siiiiiiigh* SO! Now with any luck at all I can keep these two updating at the same time. I've been working on Naoto's next chapter, so once I have both hers and Kanji's written, we'll finally finally FINALLY get a proper update. ;) Thank you all so much for being patient with me. You are the best!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry, I meant to put this up on Saturday, but I was gone for the whole long weekend here, and I've only just gotten back to my computer. ...Because I left the chapter on my desktop. So my laptop was not much use. *ugh* I'm trying (trying being the operative word here) to update once a week: Thunderstorm on Thursdays and Lightning on Saturdays.
> 
> Here's hoping I can do it! Sorry for the delay again. :)

The change in location was doing nothing to help Kanji sleep, though if he thought about it, it wouldn't make any sense it it had. He had tugged the blanket over his face, hoping that by blocking off his sight, it would help him fall asleep faster.

While he'd maybe dozed off and on, he certainly wasn't sleeping well.

_I should really jus' say somethin' so she can tell me no an' we can both get on with our lives._ If he had a yen for every time he'd thought that over the past year and change, he'd be rich. If nothing else, it became more and more obvious with each passing day that while Naoto thought he was nice and all, there wasn't anything more there. Kanji had wondered if maybe there had been something going on between Naoto and Yu last year, but neither of them had said anything after that and besides, hadn't Yu been dating Chie?

Maybe she got whatever she needed to figure out about relationships done last year, and now she wasn't interested in them anymore. That would be his luck.

But no matter how many times he ran the conversation in his mind, he couldn't get up the nerve to confess to her. He didn't want to hear the rejection. He hated rejection from anyone, but from Naoto...that was going to be hard to recover from. That was going to hurt. And he'd rather live in the middle ground, not being sure and waiting from a distance, rather than let himself get walked over.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. _Wish I could just fall asleep. Shit doesn't matter when I'm asleep._

A moment later, he heard a murmur from Naoto's side of the room. Frowning, he pulled a corner of the blanket away from his eyes and looked over, but as far as he could tell in the dimness of the room, she was still asleep. Tossing and turning a bit, but asleep. He kept an eye on her as another mumbled incoherence made its way out of her mouth.

And then one crystal clear word.

“Kanji...”

Kanji's eyes shot open wide as a jolt shocked through his body. His chest tightened like a vice had been clamped onto his ribs, his throat closed up, he could feel the blood coursing through his ears and he was very grateful that his pants were loose. Before anything else could happen, he pushed the blanket back up over his face and rolled onto his side—

—and in just the nick of time, as he heard Naoto wake with a start. _Keep breathing. Nice and slow. Calm down._

_She called me Kanji. Maybe she was asleep, but for the first time..._

_This is not calming down!_

He fought to bring his pulse back to some semblance of normal, but it was a struggle. In the whole time he'd known Naoto, she'd refused to drop the honorific from his name. Occasionally it would drop from the name of one of the others in their group, but never his. But now...

_But why?_

What had happened in her dreaming mind that caused that? Or...no, he couldn't even think about it.

_But what if that happens more often in her dreams?_

He'd never been around her when she'd slept before, obviously. So maybe this was something she'd dealt with before. Maybe she was dealing with something on her own, and didn't know how to approach him about it. Maybe...

_Yeah, well, maybe ain't gonna pay the bills._ It didn't matter how many maybes he strung together if he was still going to be a coward about it. And a coward he'd remain, desperately hiding his crimson face and half a hard-on over one word.

_Fuck, I'm pathetic._

He heard her shift again, and then soft footsteps toward the back door. Kanji didn't move, and then heard the door slide open and then shut again. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to force the sleep which had eluded him for so long to come now.

No dice.

A few moments later he heard Naoto creep back in, then make her way through the other door toward the rest of the house. He almost couldn't hear her, slipping silently through the rooms. She had to be trying not to wake him. _Wish that was the problem, Naoto..._

* * *

He must have dozed off, however, since the next thing he knew, he felt a soft hand on his arm through the blanket, shaking slightly. “Kanji-kun?”

_Kanji-kun._ “Mm.” He rolled onto his back but didn't open his eyes. He didn't trust what she'd see in them, and besides, they felt super heavy now that he'd started to doze.

“Kanji-kun. I need to head back to the estate. I'll be leaving soon.”

“Nngh.” That made sense. She'd have to go see how her gramps was, and if the secretary dude was back, and all of that. And the house was kind of a mess when she left, so that could make anyone suspicious. He rubbed his face, opened an eye to peek at her—dressed in clothes which looked weirdly familiar but weren't the clothes she'd come here in—then set his hand over his face again. “'kay.”

“I wanted to thank you for everything you've done over the past twenty-four hours. I...well, it would have been a very unpleasant night had you not come.”

“No probl'm.” He tucked his hand back under the blankets, suddenly feeling chilled, but kept his eyes closed. _Man, I feel like a truck hit me. I didn't feel this bad yesterday._ He had just taken a breath to say goodbye when he felt cool fingers on his forehead. His eyes snapped open and he could see the detective frowning, her hand resting on his head. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “What're you doing?”

“You're running an impressive fever. I knew all that time in the rain was going to make you sick.” She stood, walking back to where she'd been sleeping and grabbed his blanket, dragging it back over. “Here.”

“You don't...what...” He tried to sit up, but his head spun at the motion and for once, he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with Naoto being near by. When she pushed his shoulder back down, making him lie down again, he didn't resist. He wasn't sure he could.

“You need to lie back down and rest.” Naoto sighed. “I should have been more insistent last night. It's my fault you're sick.” She tossed the blanket over him, covering him best she could, and then moved to maneuver the corners to where she wanted them over his feet.

Not that he'd say it, but it was a relief to have the blanket back. The one he'd been using was fine and all, but this one was so much warmer. Even with the added warmth, the chill from earlier wasn't leaving. He closed his eyes again. “S'not your fault I ran out'n the rain.” It was his own damn fault.

“Oh really? And you make a habit to go running for miles at a time in thunderstorms, hm? I find that unlikely.” Kanji had to bite back an amused smile. He heard her walk back toward his head and shift, likely crouching given how much closer her voice sounded when she spoke again. “Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. “M'fine.”

“That's what I told you.” He froze. _She's got you there, Tatsumi._ She'd spent all night insisting that she was fine, and he knew full well she wasn't. How could he do the same to her? _Simple, because asking for her to confess to you is ridiculous._ “If there is _anything_ , Kanji-kun...”

_Call me Kanji again. Touch me again, don't leave, lie next to me, anything dammit..._ He shook his head, opening his eyes to look over at her, the detective's expression solemn but worried. “S'just a cold if anythin', Naoto. I'll sleep it off t'day an' be fine f'r school tomorrow. You gotta go back home an' check up on your gramps. Don' worry 'bout me. Jus' let me know how he is when you get there, an' lemme know if I c'n do anything, okay?” _Nailed it._

“The best thing you can do right now is rest, and feel better. I will continue to feel guilty for making you sick until you do such.” He rolled his eyes, but still caught the small smile she gave him. “Do rest please, Kanji-kun. I'll message you when I arrive at home.”

“I will. An' thanks.” And before he could do or say anything he'd regret, he tugged the blanket over his face again and shut his eyes, trying to block out everything he was thinking and feeling, trying to forget the way she'd sounded when she said his name, trying to forget how he could almost imagine her hand tracing his face, threading through his hair, her...

He shuddered, tugging the blanket tighter. _Stop that._

A moment later, he heard her leave and he finally took a deep breath, threading a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. Despite all the time she'd been here, he hadn't figured out what had thrown her off so badly—he'd think it was just her grandfather, but she'd specifically mentioned the storm and...what did she say, 'compounding issues?'—so he hadn't been able to do much, but even if she was actually as calm now as she sounded, he'd consider it a success.

He must have dozed again, because next thing he knew, he was hearing a buzzing and couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Slowly crawling back to consciousness, he peered out at the world and saw his phone. _That wasn't there earlier. Maybe Ma got it for me._ He reached out a hand to grab at it, opening the text that was coming it.

          From: Yu _I assume she's home safe. :)_

Kanji groaned, rubbing at his face, but managed to send a message back before he fell asleep again.

_Yeah,_ _headed home_ _. Thanks for pushing. Can you tell your uncle she's okay? I forgot to tell him._

That would have to do.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is going up early today rather than in the evening like usual because I'm going to be out today and tomorrow, and I want to make sure you get this on the proper day this time! So enjoy~

Kanji had no idea how long he'd been sleeping off and on, but he wasn't sleepy anymore—though he had no inspiration to get up off the futon. His mother had come in briefly with some tea and told him to drink and rest, which he'd managed to do before the drink got cold. Beyond that, he lay there on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, trying to find the words to tell Naoto what he was thinking.

_Hey, so uh...I've kinda been meaning to tell you something for a while, but I didn't know how to say it or how you'd take it... No, that's too much already. ...Hey Naoto, can I ask you something? I was just wondering... shit, I don't even know what to ask. Can't I just be like 'hey so you're really amazing and I kinda wanna make out with you'? Does that work?_

No. That would not work. He'd get three words in and he'd pass out.

His phone buzzed and he turned his head, grasping for the phone and opening up the text message.

From: Naoto _HOME SAFE. DRS NOT SURE. HOPE U R RESTING._

The corners of his lips twitched into the shadow of a smile. As soon as he'd started acting sick, you'd have thought she'd let a Shadow maul him. It wasn't her fault, no matter how much she wanted to make it her fault. He'd chosen to run like a lunatic through the rain and then give up the warmer blanket.

And he'd do it all over again. A cold was a small price to pay.

He let the phone rest on his chest, thinking of a response. The fact that the doctors weren't sure about her grandfather wasn't great. Kanji had a flashback to standing outside of a hospital room, fists firmly against the wall, hating each and every moment that the doctors said they didn't know what was wrong, there was nothing physically wrong with her but she wasn't getting any better...

He felt himself twitch. It had been good to hear Nanako earlier, even if it had just been for a couple of sentences. He hadn't seen her in a while; he'd have to make an effort to meet up with her. That usually meant having to deal with Dojima, but that wasn't quite as terrifying as usual after talking to him earlier as well. They'd been perfectly civil to one another ever since Yu had gone back to the city. Dojima seemed to have noticed that Kanji had made an effort to clean up his act, and the older man was willing to give the delinquent a second chance.

Kanji closed his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing. He'd told Naoto he'd rest, and drifting in and out of sleep was probably resting, and he seemed to do that well enough without even trying. He sniffed; that was one of the more annoying side effects to being sick. He hated feeling stuffed up. This was less of a head cold and more of a chest cold, but it still made his head feel like it was full of yarn. Not his favorite feeling in the world.

He blinked (he swore he only blinked) and suddenly the phone had slid off of his chest and onto the floor. _Man, this randomly sleeping thing is probably good for me, but it's annoying. I want to do something, but I don't want to get up. Ugh._ He grabbed the phone again and typed out a response to Naoto.

_That sucks about the doctors. I've been sleeping off and on. I'm tired but not sleepy, if that makes sense? Mainly just bored. Too cold and lazy to get up. You ok?_

He tugged the blanket around his shoulders again, ignoring that something smelled just a little different about it now. He'd managed to chase off the last dramatic physical reaction Naoto had given him; he didn't need it to come back now. ...Not yet. Later. When not in his futon.

He yawned, rubbing at his eyes with the blanket. If he was smart, he'd move back into his room, but that would require getting up and moving the futon and setting it back up and that just seemed like a lot of work right now when he was perfectly fine where he was. His mother had, at some point, come in and rekindled the fire in the hearth so the room was warm, and he was cozy under his blanket, and getting up was just so unnecessary.

He was starting to get the feeling of dozing off again when his phone buzzed in his hand and he started back awake. _Shit._

_NRML REACTION RE SLEEP/TIRED. AM FINE. RESTLESS._

That sounded about right. Of course, Kanji knew full well that Naoto was going to tell him that she was fine regardless of whether or not she was actually fine, so that could really be taken with a grain of salt. However, the second message that came in was significantly more surprising.

_U NEED/WANT NETHING? UDON, ETC? AM GOING 2 SHRINE L8R._

She was coming back into town? Wait—and she was asking him if he wanted _food?_ He checked the name again. Sure enough, it claimed to be from Naoto Shirogane, but he wasn't convinced his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. He smacked his cheek, and it stung; clearly not a dream, then.

Why was she asking about food? Did Naoto know how to cook? He assumed that she had a chef or something in that big house, but that didn't mean she didn't know how... And why was she offering to make him food? Sure, udon would taste good right about now—he'd probably be able to taste it, which was one up on a lot of other things at the moment—but still, it seemed out of character.

Kanji stared at the message, trying to read into it what Naoto could have meant. She'd asked if he needed anything before she left, and had repeatedly talked about how she felt bad that he was sick. Udon was a classic food for people with colds, so it was a reasonable choice. Maybe this was just her way of insisting that he let her do something to make up for it.

_But why?_ It wasn't like Naoto to get this hung up on doing something for another person, let alone him. It wasn't that she was heartless, just...efficient. If someone said no, she'd ask again, and after the second no she'd give up. It wasn't a reasonable usage of energy to keep going on and on about something; she'd said stuff like that during the investigation.

... _wait._ The only time she'd gotten wrapped up in details was when Nanako had gotten kidnapped and sick. She'd beaten herself up all the time for missing clues, for not paying attention to the things she needed to, for not keeping Nanako as the first and foremost priority. She only got like this when she thought she'd done something wrong.

Kanji cursed under his breath. Leave it to her to make herself miserable over something that _wasn't her fault._ How many times was he going to have to tell her that it was totally his choice to be out in the storm? Just because she was the reason he was out there didn't make it her fault.

_Dammit, I don't want her feeling like she did this to me. I don't want that over her head. I wish...ugh. I wish she knew, so she'd just know why I did it. Hell, I don't know if that'd help or hurt, honestly._

Kanji sighed, peering at the screen again. He needed to send a response.

_You really don't have to, I mean I'm doing okay on my_

No, that sounded too dismissive. It was still nice of her to offer. He deleted the message.

_If you're going to be down here, that'd be great but I don't really need anything or_

That wasn't any better.

_If you really think you need to do somet_

Ugh. _Get your head in the game, Tatsumi._

_Uh...I mean, you were just down here. But since you really seem to want to do something, I'll be here, so...it's up to you, I guess._

That really wasn't great, but he sent it anyway. It wasn't going to get any better. He sighed, yawning again. He was going to have to get up at some point, just because if he slept all day, he was going to be wide awake all night, and that never did anything good for him.

The phone buzzed a moment later.

_NO TROUBLE. WILL TXT FRM SHRINE. DINNER OK? Y/N_

Naoto's texting style amused him sometimes. For someone as wordy and precise as her, she cut corners in her messages all the time. He'd heard Yosuke call her out on that once (not that Yosuke had any room to talk) and she'd said something like text messages not being any place to get hung up on sentence structure, since as long as the other person understood you were golden.

It still amused Kanji that he typed in better sentences than her, though you'd never know it from the way they spoke.

He'd been doing better in school, since the events of last year. Having a friend base at the school—a genuine friend base, not just a group of first-years too scared of him to say anything otherwise—had been nice. Naoki helped him study in the library after school, and even Naoto popped in on occasion to see if she could lend a hand. Yukiko often came with Naoki, since they seemed to be a thing now, and that had helped all of their grades...at least, when they could understand what she was saying. The girl was too smart for her own good.

That didn't sound familiar at all.

For whatever reason, Kanji's mind drifted back to earlier this school year, when he, Naoto, and Naoki had all gone to the cemetery to visit people. Naoto hadn't said it outright, but Kanji had figured it out; her parents had died on her birthday. It explained everything he'd seen that day. She'd been distracted, refusing to talk about her birthday, saying it was just another day and she'd be celebrating it with her family. It was a family affair. Everything pointed back to her family.

How many years had she gone to that graveyard alone, trying to remember parents long gone, alone among the stones? How many years had she robbed herself of a birthday celebration because she was more willing to remember her parents' lives than her own?

Maybe next year he'd do something about that. ...Maybe next year he'd be in a position where she'd let him do something about it.

He started tapping out a message to Naoto.

_Dinner sounds great. Thanks. You're amazing_

Changing his mind, he went to delete the last few words and his hand slipped. The phone smacked into his face, then slid down to clatter on the ground. “Dammit.” He rolled to pick it up—and saw that to his horror, the message had sent ending with “You're a” and nothing more. “Shit shit shit shit.” He pushed himself up into a sitting position and grabbed the phone, quickly sending a follow-up and praying she'd ignore the mistake.

_shit sorry phone fell on my face. I'll let Ma know you're coming. See you when you get here._

There. That sounded much more like him, and it had the benefit of being true. And he'd given himself the perfect reason to actually get up and relocate himself. Tucking the phone into the pocket of his hoodie, he dragged himself to his feet and gathered up the futon and blankets, lugging them back to his room and setting them back up where they belonged. While he was up, he grabbed the futon Naoto had been sleeping on and rolled it up, returning it to the closet where it lived. Being active was at least waking him up a little, though it made his head feel more stuffy.

He checked his phone; he'd gotten a message.

_YES. WHAT WAS UR LAST SENTENCE? IM A WHAT?_

_Shit._ This was precisely what he didn't want. What was he supposed to say? _I mean, here's my perfect opportunity. You're amazing, you're an angel, you're anything and everything I ever could of dreamed of but I_ _ **can't say any of that**_. He swallowed hard, choosing his words carefully.

_Um. Sorry about that, meant to delete it. Just going to say you're awesome for bringing me food. You don't have to._

That was close enough to the truth, and still was a little more emotional than he'd usually go with. Awesome sounded like something he could say to any of the group, whereas amazing was...not. He'd almost gotten the phone back into his pocket when it buzzed again.

_I WANT TO. SEE U TONITE._

As much as he tried to stop it, his heart jumped into his throat. He wasn't sure why, or if there was even the slightest reason that he should be letting his hopes get even a little bit raised, but that...sounded like more than the usual level of emotion from her as well.

Maybe...just maybe, he had a fraction of a snowball's chance in hell here. Maybe.

_God, I hope so._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: I've had a comment elsewhere that some people are having difficulty with the text messages. I'm assuming this is from the last chapter of Thunderstorm, where people like Yosuke are busy destroying the language. While I entirely understand how it can be difficult to read, particularly if you may already have a reading difficulty--the reviewer mentioned dyslexia, and I can't even fathom reading them with that--I'm not willing to change the format. I've taken the texting styles directly from the game, and while I would never text like Yosuke--I text more like Kanji or Yu--I respect that he does, according to the game creators, and I'll continue to kill my language for it. If that means you have to skip the text conversations, then I'll accept that, and I'm sorry I'm making that difficult. I do hope you understand, though. If you want/need, feel free to contact me privately and I'll be happy to give you a "translated" version, so you don't miss anything. :) Thanks again!


	6. Chapter 6

After telling his mother Naoto was coming back, he begged silence and lurked in his room. He knew that the questioning was coming, given everything that had happened and what he'd said, but...if he could delay the interrogation for just a day until he felt better, that would be fantastic.

_Maybe I'd actually have an answer by then._

Of course, if he could figure out an answer to what the hell was going on with Naoto and him, he'd be the happiest man on the planet. Especially after all of this. _Shit, what have I really gotten myself into..._

In the end, it didn't matter. If he was spending time with Naoto, he'd take it. It was hard enough to do that anyway. If she was offering, he'd take it.

He had no clue how much time had passed as he stared up at the ceiling before his mother tapped at his door. “Yeah.”

The door slid open and his mother peeked her head in. “Naoto-kun is here, Kanji. Come down for dinner?”

“Yeah.” He pushed himself to his feet and slogged his way to the kitchen, head still stuffed and foggy from the cold. _Man, school tomorrow is gonna suck with this._ He rubbed his eyes as he walked in, only catching a glimpse of the blue on Naoto's hat before he couldn't see anything.

A beat passed and he could hear his mother clattering in the cupboards, and then Naoto's soft voice. “How are you feeling, Kanji-kun?”

He lowered his hand, opening his eyes to look at her. She hadn't changed from the clothes she'd left in, just adding the hat. “Tired still. Just kinda blah. I think I fell asleep again. Don't think I've slept this much in years.” He gave her a small smile. It was true; he'd been dozing all day so far and still managed to be sleepy. Or at least tired. “Thanks again.”

“Of course, it's no trouble. As I said, I was going to come down again in any event, and I thought...this would be at least something of a gesture of good will.” She pulled the brim of her hat down, a familiar sign of her being uneasy.

“It's very sweet, Naoto-kun. Kanji-kun and I both appreciate it,” his mother spoke up, setting three bowls on the table. “Would you like to serve, or should I?”

Kanji slipped into a chair, ignoring the conversation in favor of focusing on the udon. It smelled fantastic. He wasn't sure how much experience Naoto had with cooking, but if the smell was anything to judge by, she was fantastic at it. _I'm not surprised. She'd be good at anything she put her mind to._ And once the food was dished, the taste backed that up.

_This girl is gonna be the death of me._

* * *

“You were headed to the shrine?” Kanji's attention returned as he heard his mother's question, and he looked over to Naoto.

“Mmm.” she nodded. “I suppose if I want to get back to the estate before the sky has gone completely dark, I should be heading on. Thank you again, for everything.”

“Don't worry about it,” his mother replied with a smile and a laugh. “Our door is open to any of Kanji's friends, at any time. Be careful, walking back.”

“I will.” She bowed to the two of them and headed down to the front door.

Kanji looked down to his bowl, trying to will himself to move and go back to his room, when he heard his mother clear her throat. He looked up, raising his eyebrows. “What?”

She nodded toward the door, holding out a coin to him. “You're letting her go to the shrine by herself?”

“I...uh. Okay.” He pushed up from the table, took the coin and walked after her, waiting in the doorway as she put her shoes on.

As she stood back up, she flinched, jumping back a step. “Kanji-kun. You startled me.”

“Sorry.” _Shit._ He scratched his head, coughing a tickle out of his throat. “Fig'red I'd ask. You...” _How do I want to say this? Uh..._ Suddenly a memory flashed back to him—Naoto sitting on the rooftop at school, staring down at a borrowed bowl of curry, refusing to budge on information. Insisting she had to suffer alone. _You don't need to do this alone._ “You want me to come with? Or you wanna go alone?” Naoto started to say something, but Kanji wouldn't let her deny him just yet. “I jus' remember your birthday, month or so ago, an'...” He shrugged. “Jus' wanted to ask.”

Naoto seemed stunned, staring back at him. It took a moment before she could reply. “I...” Her eyes cast down to the floor. “Thank you. I...would appreciate your company, if you feel up to the task.”

Kanji bit back a laugh, snorting—though he was honestly surprised she agreed. “I think I c'n walk next door and back without falling over.” He stepped into his shoes, reaching for the door. “C'mon.”

They made their way over to the shrine, and Kanji shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. It wasn't cold, but even the evening air seemed more chilled than he was hoping. It hadn't quite warmed up as much after the storm as he'd hoped. In front of the altar, he pulled his hands out, the coin clutched against his palm, staring ahead of him.

 _What do I pray for?_ Kanji had never been good at figuring out prayers at the shrine, even when he was coming for himself. Now that he was here for someone else's prayers...he was at a loss. _Um...so, I'd really appreciate it if you watched out for Naoto's gramps. I know she's really close to him, and she lives with him and all, so...yeah, if he could be okay that'd be great._

He blinked, trying to think of anything else, since Naoto's eyes were still closed tight. _So...I don't know what she thinks of me, and I don't know what I really think, but whatever's happening... I just want her to be happy. I don't care if it's with me or someone else or whatever, I just... I want her to be happy. I'd love if she'd be happy with me, but if it's not then it's not. Just watch out for her in general._

He waited until he heard her coin clink in the chest before tossing his own in, and he looked over to her. She was staring at the offering box. “You okay?”

Her head snapped up to look at him. “I...yes, of course. Why...” He kept watching her, and her voice faded. _You don't need to hide this from me._ As if she could hear his thoughts, she sighed and looked at her shoes. “I am...worried. If my grandfather does not recover, I don't know what becomes of me. I am not close with any of my other relatives, and I doubt any of them live near here. I know that it isn't strictly speaking necessary for me to finish my schooling, but I would rather complete it with everyone else, and go on to university to perfect my trade. But...”

Kanji waited, but she didn't finish her sentence so he offered a guess. “But you don't know if you get to make that choice.”

She nodded, lifting her head a bit but not enough to meet his eye. “I've already lost so much of my family. I don't want to lose the rest.” He could barely heard her as she spoke.

Kanji choked back an exclamation, panicking as he saw her start to crumble. _Oh god, Naoto...shit. What do I do?_ This was as open as she'd ever been with him, and she looked ready to fall apart. _Fuck it. I can't just stand here. I have to do something._ Hand shaking, he reached out and set his hand on her shoulder, putting an arm around her and tugging her toward him, giving her a tight one-armed hug. Her whole upper body started to shake with sobs she only barely let sound, and he could see tears starting to trace down her cheeks. His hand clenched on her and he pulled her over into a proper hug, and closed his eyes as he felt her rest her forehead on his chest. “Hey...s'okay. It's gonna be okay.” He had to fight to keep his own voice steady, being the rock for her.

Naoto was struggling to calm down. “I'm so tired of this,” he heard her voice drift up toward him.

His chest twisted. “I bet. I ain't seen you this bad the whole time I known you.” He heard a faint cough of a laugh, and a weight lifted from his shoulders. “But you got a whole buncha shit thrown at you all at once, an' no one does good with that. You had more than enough reason to break down in the past year. Shit, I think everyone else did at some point. Yer just overdue.” _That's an understatement. She's had hell rain down on her, and she's still standing. Most of us couldn't manage that._

He felt her take a few more breaths, and her shoulders started to still. “Even you?”

He coughed, scoffing. “Course. All that shit would get to anyone. I mean, if nothin' else, after what happened to Nanako-chan...” He fell silent, remembering the scene...the pain in his hand from punching the wall, the ringing of the flatline, the aching sound of his friends all sobbing around him. He couldn't keep thinking about it. “Your gramps is gonna be fine. If he's anything like you, old man's got a hell of a fight in him. He's not gonna give up that easy.”

He felt Naoto nod against his sweatshirt. “Yes. You're right.” Since she seemed to be recovering, he loosened his arms so she could step away...and then blinked inwardly when she didn't move. _Well hell, if she's not backing off, I'm not letting go._ He shifted his arms to hug her tight again.

They stayed that way for a moment before her tentative voice came back to him. “My parents. That's why I hate storms.”

His eyes opened, and he blinked, looking down at the top of her hat. “Your parents?”

Her voice was struggling to keep steady and he could hear it. “The car accident they...they died in. It was in a thunderstorm. I was waiting at home, house dark from a power outage, alone for at least an hour before my grampa came to find me. It's my most vivid memory of the evening, having my grandfather appear in my doorway and tell me amid the thunder and lightning that my parents weren't coming home.”

His whole chest felt like it had frozen. _If I hadn't come..._ She would have been trapped, alone, in a huge old house...and all she would be able to think of would be death. Her parents, her gramps... _I have never been so happy to be sick. Fuck my cold. I couldn't have left her alone. I'd never forgive myself._ He pulled her closer, closing his eyes again and lowering his head toward hers. “Fuck, Naoto. I...” _What do I want to say...?_ He huffed out a breath. “I'm sorry.”

He felt her head shake. “It's nothing I enjoy talking about. Generally I have Yakushiji-san in the house, at least. But last night...”

“ _There are compounding issues, in my case.”_ Her voice from the night before came back to him. _Those were the compounding issues. That's what she meant. It wasn't just the storm she was afraid of...it was what the storm reminded her of._ “Compounding issues,” he muttered to himself.

“Hm?”

“You said las' night you had compounding issues that made you not like the storm. Tha's what it was.”

She nodded against his chest. “Yes.” His fingers tightened on her coat, his arms starting to shake from frustration. _Why can't I do anything more...?_ He felt her shift, and then her arms slipped around his waist. For just a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He couldn't move—didn't want to move—barely could think.

He had no idea how long they stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind reeling from the reality of the situation. Finally he felt her hands loosen and he let her step back, her hands barely tracing against his sides as she moved. She rubbed a sleeve across her face and Kanji tried to remember how to exist. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I'm sorry for...” Her voice faded, then she shook her head. “I don't know. Startling you.”

 _You can startle me like that as much as you want, Naoto. Any time, any where, any day._ He could tell his face was bright red after all of that, but he still had to laugh. “S'not the first time. Prob'ly won't be the last.” The smile faded as he watched her face. “You sure yer okay now, to walk home? I c'n...”

She didn't let him finish. “No.” A tiny smile curved her mouth. “You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll stay here, and rest until tomorrow, and I will see you at school. I promise, you have done more than enough over the past two days. I am truly in your debt.”

 _Bullshit._ He put his hands back in his pockets. “Nah. Don' worry about it. Glad I could help.” _Staying cool. First time you've been able to do that in your life. Guess all the clumsy got scared out of you when she hugged you._

She slipped her hands into her own pockets and gave him a nod. “Then be well, Kanji-kun. I'll hope to see you in class tomorrow.”

Naoto turned to walk away, and Kanji had finally had enough. _No. Fuck that. Not after all of this bullshit. I'm saying something._ “Naoto?”

His voice caught her at the top of the stairs down to the street, and she turned back to look at him. “Hm?”

“Can...” _Fuck, I don't want to shout._ He sighed and jogged over to her. Taking a moment to gather his courage, he finally asked what he'd been wanting to ask for far too long now. “Can you just call me Kanji? I just...” He stared at his shoes, unable to bring himself to look at her. Didn't want to see the expression on her face. _Please don't let me be screwing everything up..._ “All of us, what we went through...it jus' seems like...” _Like we shouldn't have to be so formal anymore. Like you should be more comfortable with me. I don't know. I can't finish that._

“There is a level of familiarity between those of the investigation team not commonly seen among other friends,” she finished, and Kanji nodded, gaze still on the ground. “I'll do my best. It is...habit of min, so I'm afraid I'll likely forget. But...I can try.”

His head snapped up to watch her face; she didn't seem to be kidding, but then again, it was hard to tell with Naoto. _Seriously? It was that fucking easy?_ “I...okay, cool. Yeah. Thanks.” _Well there went your smooth, Tatsumi. Good job._

She just nodded. “You ought to get back inside. It's gotten significantly colder out.” They started walking down the stairs, and Kanji glanced around. It didn't feel colder, but then again, his heartbeat hadn't gone back to normal since she'd first touched him. He'd touched her. Whatever. The hug.

“Yer sure yer okay to walk back?” He wanted to make absolutely sure. Cold be damned, he'd walk with her if she wanted.

“Positive. I'll send you a text when I arrive to prove it.” He managed a smile to match hers at the comment. “I'll see you tomorrow...” Her voice hitched, and a faint blush traced across her cheeks. “Kanji.”

Now his whole face felt like it was on fire, and his head was spinning. _She's awake. Aware. Totally just actually did that. Holy shit._ “You too, Naoto. Walk safe.”

She walked away, leaving Kanji there to stand stunned for a moment, and then the huge stupid grin spread across his face. _She finally called me Kanji. And I gave her a hug._

_Holy shit. Maybe I've got a shot after all._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being with me through this. I'm so pleased with this story, but this chapter in specific. Kanji is so much fun to write. ^^ I'm equally glad you all seemed to like it! I'll be sure to try and write some more of these two once my life settles down. :)
> 
> I remain your obedient servant,  
> JC


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